You and You Alone
by SwordOfBlackRoses
Summary: Coming with the American Ballet Academy, you're here viewing the Opera Populaire's own ballet. Watching the night Christine has sung her first aria, she inspires you. Unexpectedly, you take her place for Phantom's singing lessons.
1. Replacement

Hi! This is my first (and probably only) POTO fic. Nyuck. I don't own any of the characters or music or any of that fun stuffness. If I get anything wrong you'll have to forgive me XD This is based off the 2004 movie instead of the plays or...yeah. o.O You know what I'm saying.

"You" are the main character. If you're female, good XD If you're male...well..uh...either pretend to be female while reading this, or picture your favorite girl there XP

This starts out after Christine is returned by the Phantom from her first visit to his cave.

* * *

"Another intruder..." a voice says quietly behind you, sending a shiver down your back.

"H-Hello?" you say, turning quickly to see no one.

"How did you get in here?" Madam Giry asks you sharply as you step quietly down the hall toward Christine Daae's room.

You jump, turning back the original way you'd been going. You take a slow breath, and regain composure. "Well, I...no one was at the front when I came. So I just let myself in," you explain, twisting the ribbon on the box of chocolates you've brought.

"What is that?" Giry ask, eyeing the item in your hands.

"Oh. This? This is just a box of chocolates. I hear that Nestle and Peter are working on some sort of milk chocolate. It sounds delicious, but..." you trail off, swaying nervously under the strict woman's gaze. "You see, I'm here with my ballet academy. My parents sent me to the academy for the summer. They're over in America," you continue to explain after receiving no reply from Giry.

"America?"

"Well...well yes. Your Opera House is well known and my teacher assumed it'd be a good experience to come see your wonderful ballet and...but that's beside the point. Anyway, we came yesterday and when Miss Daae performed, I couldn't help but want to come back and give her something! She was so inspirational!" you exclaim.

She looked slightly flattered, pushing her long braid behind her shoulders as she drew in a proud breath. "Yes, well, I must say our ballet is quite renowned and..." she seemed to come back to her senses. "You are not allowed to be back here. And Christine needs rest. If you wish, I can give her the gift and you may write her a letter and send it to her."

"Who's here?" came Christine's weak voice as her door opened slowly.

Giry turned and tapped her cane on the ground. "Just another admirer."

"She's about my age," Christine observed. "I'm feeling alright. Let her in."

"Christine, you really should rest," Giry says firmly.

"Could you please find Raoul and tell him I'm sorry I kept him waiting?" Christine asked, changing the subject.

Giry's nose twitched, knowing Christine would never let her win. She turned on her heel and walked off, leaving you and Christine alone in the dark hall, lit only by two torches, giving off barely enough light to help you recognize the diva's face.

"I promise you, she'll never let me have any friends outside of this Opera House. She really does mean well," Christine says, laughing quietly as you step inside her room, stunned.

You gaze around at the stacks upon stacks of bouquets of flowers. Suddenly your chocolates feel rather puny. "M-Miss Daae? I'm honored to meet you," you say, giving a small bow. You straighten out your tattered grey cloak hiding your red leotard, black silk skirt, flesh colored tights, and red dancing shoes. "I loved your singing. It was beautiful! Truth be told, I love to sing more than to dance, but my parents won't listen," you say rather hastily as though she'll turn you away if you don't spit it out all at once. "Here, these are for you," you say, presenting your small gift.

"Oh, well thank you," she said sincerely, smiling as she pulled the ribbon off and opened the box. "I do love chocolate so much. I can't say I've gotten this many flowers before, but, after a while, they all look the same. Chocolate however, never ceases to excite me."

"So how do you do it?" you ask intently.

"Do what?"

"Sing like that. Like an angel. You made me feel as though I was floating, and everyone else was astonished as well!" you say, hoping to get a few tips for your own singing.

Her eyes lowered and she set the chocolate on her desk, her freed hand settling itself on top of the long stem of a single blood red rose lying beside where she'd placed the chocolates. "I honestly don't know. It's as though I don't even feel like myself as I sing. You see...well, no, it's too silly. No one believes me anyway."

"What? What is it?" you ask, sitting in the chair directly from hers.

"I have a tutor, but I don't quite know his name. Ever since I was a child he's sung to me while I lie awake in my bed. Just...just last night, I was able to meet him for the first time," she said, her voice lowering a great deal as though she was afraid _someone_ might hear. "And when I hear his voice, it's as though a great force is pressing down on my chest and I can barely breath, it's so beautiful. Almost like it's too ethereal for human ears to handle. But it scares me the way it almost possesses me. Like I'll never be able to escape him if he didn't want me to leave." Her expression had become so distant it was as though her subconscious was speaking.

"I say you should tell him you don't need him anymore. Your voice is already so perfect!" you say, trying to supply options for her fear.

"Oh, I could never do that," she says, turning to look at you. "He would be entirely too angry. He was pleased with my performance and wants to begin tutoring me face to face so I might improve to his level. Until now he's tutored me as best he could without allowing me to see him. I'm afraid if I see and hear him anymore, I'll fall under his possession. It's so beautiful, but there seems something terribly wrong about it..."

"I'd give anything to be able to have that sort of tutoring," you say dreamily. "I know, I can go in your place!" you say with a broad smile. "Look at us! We're so similar in looks. If I just thin out my eyebrows..." you begin to say, standing beside her and comparing your looks to hers.

"Oh, no, I could never let you do that!" she says, placing her hand on your shoulder. "And what if he found out the truth? He's not a heavenly angel...his temper is...not desirable," she tried to explain.

"This is an opera house! Look at all the supplies we've got." You look down at her table, covered with makeup. "My skin is a little darker than yours, but I can just wear gloves when I see him, and I can put lighter makeup on. Like I said, if I thin out my eyebrows and trace the lipstick a little further outside the boarder of my lips, I should look just like you!" you say, just now realizing how uncanny the resemblance of the two of your looks are. "And my hair becomes curly when wet."

"But what of our voices?" Christine looked sorrowful. "Surely he'll know that you haven't been taught under the same instruction."

"I'll do my best. I know you haven't heard me sing, but...oh, Christine, what I'd give to sing like you!" you say, shaking your head. "And besides. Which singer has not had a bad day? Anyone can claim they're having a bad day. I pick things up quickly, and I promise he won't suspect...much," you say, glancing away.

Christine still looked unconvinced. "I'd never put a stranger in such danger. You don't understand him as well as I do. You don't know everything about him as I do..."

You shake your head. "Give me one try. What's the worst he could do? He would not kill his own diva!"

"But he may kill you..." Christine said dramatically.

"Oh, come now. For wanting to be taught by him? Honestly, that's nonsense," you say as you voluntarily begin putting on makeup, taking your hair down from the bun afterward and walking to the water basin.

"But, but..." Christine picks up the red rose and begins plucking the thorns from it.

"There. How do I look?" you ask, smiling at her, a nigh reflection of her. You press the remaining excess droplets of water from your wet hair as it shrinks into curls, not quite as small and tight as hers.

She shook her head. "He'll never believe you..."

"We'll see. Go have supper, I'm sure they're all waiting for you," you say happily. "I'll wait outside your door."

Christine just sighed and picked up her own cloak, wrapping it around herself. "I'll return shortly. I'm trusting you to stay here."

"So...playing a game are we? I shall enjoy playing this very much..." the voice whispered, barely audible, but no one was in the hall to listen anyway.

You sit, playing with the ribbon that had been pulled from the chocolates, humming the scale as practice in case this 'tutor' showed up. Half of you thought it was a silly joke and was excited just to be in Miss Daae's room...though the other half was secretly convinced.

"Are you feeling better?" came that same voice you heard in the hall when you first arrived. All the candles in the room wavered, then shed their light, casting you into complete darkness.

You're stunned, unsure of what just happened. You were never fond of the dark as it were. "I...I am," you say, trying to raise your voice just a touch to match Christine's.

"Very good, my angel...look into the mirror..." he whispers.

You turn slowly, trying to remember exactly where the mirror was placed in the room when you could see, but shortly afterward, a dim bronze light began to filter from where you're facing and you see a black gloved hand reach out to you.

'Could you be...' you think as you slowly reach out your hand. 'The Phantom of the Opera?' you hesitate before letting your fingertips touch the palm of his glove.

"Be not afraid..." he whispers. "You've known me for years, have you not?"

You finally let your hand slip into his, gasping as you find his grip icy. You are led long the dark passageway by the man you cannot see until you approach a torch, which he takes hold of and lifts off the bracket on the wall. Lowering it towards his face, you see the white mask covering the right half of his handsome face.

His hand takes yours a little more securely. "Are you ready to begin your real lessons?"

* * *

Okay, so this chapter wasn't tuned towards humor, but the next one will be better XD

Phantom : ...You try too hard. -Turns and walks away-

Me : O.O Whaaa? -Chases after-


	2. Same Treatment

Hiiii! Second chapter time! . Hope you all liked the first. O.o yeah it is kinda weird that you and Christine look almost the same, but hey, everyone's supposed to have their twin in the world, and lately I've been seeing a lot of 'em. O.o like just last week I went to EFY and saw my friend Brent's twin...and my sister Victoria's...Moo...

Oh yeah! And guess what? XP To make things a tad easier and less confusing, you're going to be named Katie. Huzzah.

Oh and one more thing! I said this was going to be comedy .;; yeah, the first one wasn't very funny, I know, so this one is going to be better on that genre.

Phantom : ON WITH IT ALREADY!

Me : -shrinks- yessir...

* * *

Christine sat at the dinner table with the rest of the girls who were lodged in the Opera Populaire, all being either orphans or simply old enough to be out on their own.

"Christine...your face is white as a ghost..." Meg Giry said, taking Christine's hand as she sat down beside her. "Good Heavens! Your hands are as cold as ice! Mother!" she called.

Madame Giry walked over, swinging her braid around to the front of her shoulder. "Yes, Meg?"

"It's Christine. Something's wrong with her," Meg said worriedly.

"Oh, I'm fine," Christine said breathlessly. "It's just the corset. It makes it hard to breathe."

"How about you go back to your bedroom and change into your nightgown? I'll save some dinner for you," Mme. Giry suggested, swinging her cane back and forth out of habit.

"Yes. Good idea. I'll return shortly." Christine stood and walked back to her dressing room. She paused, looking up and down the hall. 'The girl said she'd be waiting here...' She frowned. 'Oh no...' She opened the door quickly and stepped in, gazing around. "Hello? Hello?" Her voice was terribly frightened. The mirror was ajar. She put her hand to her mouth. "Oh no...what have I done?"

"Wow..." escapes your lips as your eyes peer over the side of the curling stairwell. There must have been at least ten more stories down to travel.

"Something wrong, my dear Christine?" Phantom asks you. "Are you getting tired?" He stopped, turning to you.

"Wow..." you say again, but this time in remark at his cobalt blue eyes in contrast with his raven black hair. You blink, suddenly realizing how stupid you must sound. "I feel...short," you say out loud, suddenly feeling even more stupid.

'What a pathetic replacement...' Phantom thinks, sighing inwardly. "My dear Christine, there's a horse not too far ahead."

"Wow, a horse! Really?" you ask happily. This is just like a fairy-tale.

"..." Phantom was suddenly feeling his patience drain. Yes, Christine was only 16, but this replacement was more like a ten year old at Christmas. "Yes, my dear, yes. Just for you."

* * *

(OOS : Me : Wow, you're really an idiot .

Reader : Shaddap XO

Phantom : ... )

* * *

Once you reach the lake, you stare at the boat. The horse comes to a halt and you feel icy hands slip around your waist. "Wooow. What a boat. And nice horse too! Is this your lake?" you ask, feeling a little uneasy with all the silence.

"I see you have a new ballet outfit. I'm afraid I haven't been keeping up to date with the opera costumes," he remarks as he pulls you down from the steed, doing his best not to dig his hands too deeply into your flesh.

"Oh, well, nah, I just like this one," you say with a small blush, not sure how Christine would respond.

"Come, my love, sing for me," he said, nearly shuddering at the forced nickname.

"Sing? For you? Me? Right now?" you say as you plop into the boat with unusual lack of grace, considering your dancing upbringing.

The tall man sighed, beginning to row. "Yes." His voice was almost sharp, but he soothed it. "Yessss...my dear. For me...right now...as we speak..."

"Oh, no, I can't do that. Not without music." You laugh nervously, wringing your hands as you approach the shore of his lair. You stare in wonder at the candles, mirrors, and most of all, the beautiful pipe organ. Then you begin to notice the strewn papers on the floor, and the tables cluttered with masks, parchment, feathers, ink, wax, and other things. "You should hire a housekeeper," you blurt out, sounding much like a six year old.

'Perhaps...you should add ten years to your age, madame,' Phantom thinks, wanting nothing more than to push you out of the boat at that moment. "Yes, I should take better care of it, shouldn't I?" he said with a frown. Stepping from the boat, he helps you out as well, though not as gently as he could have.

"S...So...about these lessons. I really don't think I need them anymore, so if I could just being going I..." you try to explain as you turn back to the boat, feeling a little strange all alone under ground where no one can hear or see you, with an older man.

Phantom grabs your arm, pulling you back, and you find yourself face to face with him. His other hand finds its way to the tie of your cloak. "We've much to do..."

"Perverted old man!"

Phantom blinked. "...E-Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" you shout, trying to pull away, but finding his grip rather strong.

'She's much more stubborn than Christine. I'll dispose of her quickly. Now how to get her to listen...' he thinks. He drew in a small breath after releasing your arm, then began to sing, "Nighttime sharpens...heightens each sensation..."

You pause your march for the boat, something catching your breath in your throat.

The Phantom took a small step forward, continuing, "Darkness stirs and wakes imagination..." A small grin tugs at the corner of his full lips as he realizes his plan is working. "Silently the senses...abandon their defenses..."

You turn slowly, all anger and fear fleeing as your brown eyes are captured by his stormy blue gaze.

He extends a hand. 'A repeat of yesterday evening. But she doesn't know that. Let us see if she reacts the same way...' he thinks.

Barely half conscious, your hand sets in his black glove, legs moving helplessly, only aware that the angelic voice coming from the so called demon was feeding your curiosity. After all, why would one want to learn more, lest one cares?

"Close your eyes..." he sang softly, and it was as though he had taken control, your eyes shutting obediently. "Let your spirit start to soar..." As he held out this beautiful note, his hand pulled from yours, making your heart drop, yet his voice made it rise. Your eyes open, all breath escaped your lungs, face expressionless.

"Floating...falling..." His strong hands grasp your shoulders, turning you gently so your back is now pressed against his chiseled chest. His right hand takes hold of yours, his left hand traveling from your shoulder down to your stomach and into your own hand. "Sweet intoxication..." he led your hand up to meet his cheek. "Touch me...trust me..." he whispers.

That voice...so angelic. So amazing. You turn back to face him, literally face to face. Your lips skim the corner of his, but you're hardly aware, still stuck in the trance.

Pulling you around his cavern, he then shows you a statue carved of wax, a replica of Christine. You suddenly break from your trance and turn your head to glance at him, then nod your head back in the statue's direction.

"That's a bit creepy."

He just looks at you, then sighs. "Come. I'll take you back."

"But what about my singing lessons?" you ask.

"They can wait." He pulls you along back toward the boat. 'I can't believe I went along with this...' he thought.

After reluctantly (at least for you) being returned to Christine's dressing room, you check your reflection in the mirror, gasping to see your lipstick had shed itself partially on the Phantom's lips when they had made soft contact. You blush, beginning to remember, but only just. The trance was pretty deep. However, you can't remember seeing any red on Phantom's lips. He must've wiped it off at some point.

'Oh no...' you think, leaning a little closer to the mirror, touching your hair which had become simple waves instead of curls. Now you looked completely different from how you had when you'd gone down into his lair. 'I wonder if...he knew...'

* * *

Me : Well there you go...wasn't quite as funny as I expected.

Phantom : ...Indeed. I have a headache.

Me : Get used to it. She's an idiot, and that's that.

Reader : Hey! I resent that! XO

Me : XD You have to admit that this is probably how you would act around him.

Phantom : Oh Christine, pumpkin?

Me : -Bashes Phantom over the head with a pan- She belongs to Raoul XD

Phantom : Oro...

Me : -hides pan behind her back- Please leave a review! The more reviews, the happier I'll be to submit more chapters!


	3. Warming Up

Yaaaaay! Happy day:) Good reviews! Just so ya know, the reviews signed by "swordofblackroses" are not by me...they're from my friend Nikita who was over here and didn't want to have to make her own account. She just...didn't put her name afterward.

Phantom : Yes...she's very...

Me : -glares-

Phantom : -clears throat- so, shall we begin?

Me : Yes. -pets Phantom- after I make a few more comments!

Phantom : -shudders-

Me : Sooooo anywho! Thanks, Slina for your constructive criticism. Can you point out a few of those times when I wasn't trying too hard? -sweatdrop- I'm afraid I'm not too sure when people laugh...Oh, and I love the comment from Darth Phantom -hugs- you rock! And Mrs. Malfoy, thanks for your enthusiasm! It made me smile and come on here and write more! And thanks Tart Phan! I'm so glad you like it! -smile-

Phantom : Are you done yet?

Me : Yes! -punches the air- let's go!

* * *

"You're unharmed, correct?" Christine says breathlessly, grasping your arms when you walk into the foyer after scrubbing the makeup from your face in her dressing room.

"Yes, he didn't hurt me at all," you say, tilting your head to the side. You would have told her the details of your short adventure if it wasn't for the man that had just walked up beside the diva.

"Oh, how rude of me. This is Raoul De Changy," Christine said, introducing the two of you. "Raoul this is...why, I don't believe I've caught your name, dear."

"Katherine," you spout after a moment of registering that she wanted you to say so. "Well, but I prefer Katie."

Raoul stepped forward, taking your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. "Oh, please, allow me the privilege of naming you M'lady Katherine."

You blush a little, brushing your hair behind your ear. "I-If you wish."

Christine seemed a bit tense. She cleared her throat. "Yes, well, we were just about to go out for the evening. Do you have plans?"

"Oh, no, but I'll return to the lodge with the rest of my academy classmates," you say.

"Academy?" Raoul seems interested.

"Oh, I'm just from America. I'm here for the summer to view the Opera Populaire's famous ballet." You mingle with the tie of your cloak nervously, remembering how Phantom's gloved hand had also mingled with it earlier.

"I hate to cut the conversation short, but we really will be late for our reservation, dear Raoul..." Christine said quietly. "Please, Katie, you should speak to Madame Giry. I'm sure she could get you a dancing part for an up-coming opera."

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, I could never..."

"You're staying for the entire summer, correct? We spend about three weeks practicing the opera. Surely you'll have time, considering your academy is simply touring?" Christine said with a smile. "Well, if you won't ask, I will. Adieu."

You stand, watching as she and Raoul leave the opera house. "Well what now? I guess I'll go back to the lodge..." you say to yourself, sighing as you also step out of the opera house.

Phantom steps out from the shadows, watching Christine with Raoul. 'If this little game of Christine's makes her happy...I'll continue it. For her sake and hers alone.'

* * *

The next morning, your teacher called you and your classmates into the lodge's dining room for breakfast.

"As you know, the next opera to be rehearsed is Il Muto. Madame Giry has been kind enough to give us programs of the acts – they'll be passed around shortly – summarizing the story of this play. She has also graciously invited us to view the rehearsal of act III's ballet this evening," she explains, handing a stack of programs around the table.

Excited whispers fill the room, but are silenced shortly as your teacher continues.

"Until then, you are all free to roam about Paris. But!" She paused and eyed everyone before they could take off. "You _must_ be accompanied by a partner."

Soon everyone was changing from their nightgowns into their best dresses, blouses, and skirts, excited to see the sites. It's rather hot outside so you opt not to change into one of your long-sleeved dresses but rather into your white billow sleeve blouse. The modesty rule of the academy was that the only things that could not reach your wrists were your leotards, which were required to cover the shoulder at least. You pull on your black corset and floor-length black skirt, then tie your hair up in a normal messy bun, several of the shorter pieces falling down around your face. There really isn't much your hair-doing skills allow.

You weren't sure why, but no one at this academy had really grown very fond of you. Possibly because it was your first year. Another possibility was that this school costed an arm and a leg for your family to allow you to take, but it was pocket change for the other girls. Sure, your family wasn't poor, but it certainly wasn't rich.

Stepping out into the foyer where girls were coming in, picking partners, then leaving together, you look around sheepishly. You still couldn't remember most of their names. You'd put on a great big smile and lift a hand, about to speak as someone walked past, but she ignored you, or she was walking to the person behind you, or she 'couldn't hear' you.

After a while of trying and failing, you walk near the door looking forlorn. Suddenly, a familiar face catches your eye. Two, in fact.

"Well hello Madame Katherine!" Raoul says as he spots you, making Christine turn and look that way. Both of them make their way to the entrance of the lodge, where many of the girls stop and watch, gasping, whispering about how handsome Raoul was, or that it was amazing that the actual Christine Daaé was standing in their presence. A few gave you the jealous eye, wondering how exactly they knew your name.

"Oh...Hello Monsieur...Mademoiselle..." you murmur, bowing to each in turn, face becoming red.

"We saw a flood of girls about your age coming around the corner and I thought we might find you here," he said with a small smile. "Christine agreed to come."

Christine gave a weak smile, but in her eyes you could tell it really wasn't what she had had in mind for this morning.

"Perhaps you'd like to accompany us for brunch?" he asked happily.

"Oh-no...I really couldn't...I mean, bothering you two. I wouldn't want to ruin your fun," you say, glancing at Christine who was trying to look pleased at Raoul's sudden idea.

"Nonsense. We go out to eat all the time! And it would be much more fun if you came along with us. It would be our honor." He bowed, and Christine let out a awkward quiet laugh.

Some of the younger, more humble girls of your academy prodded your shoulders and back, whispering, "What are you waiting for? Go, go, go!"

You tilt your head to the side. "Alright, but I can't promise that I'll be with you the entire time. I'm here to tour, so I may break off at any sudden moment," you warn as though you're some dangerous animal just waiting to be turned loose.

"We'll accompany you anywhere," he promises and holds out his left arm to escort you, the right arm already taken by a slightly disappointed Christine.

Stopping at a small bakery on the corner of a street, Raoul takes the two of you inside to order some fresh bread.

Glancing out the back door, you notice three small dining tables across the road next to a restaurant in a shady area. There are more shops back there, but it seems less crowded, a few people walking down the side of the street, no carriages spotted at all. You point this out to Raoul and he seems pleased with your find.

"Come, sit, make yourself comfortable," he says, pulling out a chair for Christine, then pulling one out for you as well.

"Oh, I was just...looking around," you say, staring around at everything, your eyes finally resting on a jewelry shop.

Taking note, Raoul smiles. "Christine, dearest, would you mind if I were to escort Lady Katherine to that shop over there? I'll be back in a jiffy!" he promises, standing before Christine can reply.

You feel horrible for leaving Christine behind, but Raoul has already pushed you along towards the shop. "So tell me more about yourself. Your family," he suggests. "Any brothers and sisters?"

You laugh a little, knowing that anyone who had gotten on this subject would be surprised. You cough then say, "Seven children, including me."

Raoul stumbled over one of the curbs. "You don't say?"

"Yes. It's a wonder my parents were able to afford for me to go to this ballet school. It's surprising how well we've actually done for so many children. Some of the poorest families we know only have one or two children. I'm not quite sure how we've made it through," you say, shrugging.

Christine shivered as a cold breeze drifted past. But...there was a certain feeling about it that not just any air would carry. "You..."

A black cloak sweeps across the table, the tall man sitting down on the side of the table. "...Me."

* * *

Yaaay! Weeeell, there's chapter 3. Sorry it took so darn long. I'm thinking of changing the genre because it's not turning out as funny as I had planned -sweatdrop-

Phantom : Don't blame yourself. A writer's work is constantly changing.

Me : Awww, that's so sweet. You're actually not spiting me for once!

Phantom : -cough- yes...well...

Me : -tackle/hug/squeeze- Please review! It'll gimme more inspiration and the drive to keep writing! Plus it only takes...what...two seconds? -Points to the 'send review' button below- Even if it just says, "cool!" -sniffles- pleeease? -watery eyes- Plus, I might say something cool about you when I write the next chapter XD Oh! And tell me whether or not I should change the genre -sighs- I dunno if I should or not. It really isn't turning out that funny XP Sorry to all those who were expecting more laugh out loud moments. If you like those, you should read my Super Smash Brothers : Melee fic I wrote when I was like...13 XD Everyone loved that, plus it's got bloopers! -nyuck-

Phantom gasping for breath : Shut up...already...


	4. The Letter

Okay! So we left off with you'n'Raoul walking to the jewelry shop and Phantom appearing to Christine.

-gives a small sob- I only got one review...-sniffle- well...thank you mrs. Malfoy -smiles- have patience, it will come. -broad grin-

Phantom : o.O

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Christine asked spitefully.

The hood of his cloak was pulled up so attention wouldn't easily be drawn to his mask. He looked over towards the shop. "My, my, that young lady looks remarkably like you. And oh, I do believe she was in my lair last night."

Christine gasped...he knew.

"Did you honestly think I'd believe your little decoy?" he asked with a hint of disgust.

"If you're after Katie, Raoul will never–"

"She's the last person I'd be here for," he said, glowering at the thought of you.

((OOS : Reader : Heeey...that's mean...-sniffle-

Me : We know how much he loves you -smiles-

Phantom : I didn't know there was such a thing as negative amounts of love.))

"No, my dear, I'm here for you..." he said, standing back up and touching one of Christine's curls gently.

Christine shuddered, unable to really do anything.

Suddenly the Phantom's eyes were filled with sorrow.

"Christine...Christine, you must love me," he said, falling to his knees. His gloved hands found hers in her lap, though she pulled them away at his cold touch.

"I'm sorry, but Angels do not hypnotize their prey," she said. "I saw what was under that mask and it's not horrible as you think...but you've allowed the ugliness of your face poison your heart. I can see the anger in your eyes, and I'm afraid you may do something rash you will regret."

Phantom's face soured up.

"Everything can be prevented. Any lives being taken can be sustained if you'll only be mine," he hissed.

Christine's eyes widened. She had not meant anything near killing. But now that he had suggested it, it was clear he was capable.

Phantom stood. "Why are you with that De Changy boy, anyway?"

"He's quite the gentleman, I'll have you know," Christine said, folding her hands in her lap once more.

"Now, now, no need for bitter tones..." he muttered with a small smile. "Why is he with Katie, my dear?"

"She's here with her Ballet Academy. He's simply showing her around."

"Is that all? My dear, that's the same way my eyes become when I look at you," he said, looking at Raoul through the shop's window.

"How amazing..." you whisper, tempted to press your nose to the glass case which held all sorts of beautiful jewelry. Earrings, chokers (all the rage), longer chains, and regular rings.

You begin waving your hand in front of your face in order to fan yourself. You turn to find Raoul watching you intently.

"...What?"

He laughs and clasps his hands behind his back. "Nothing. Well, it's just that you look like a child in a candy store." His face lights up with a chuckle.

The slow thud of boots on the cobblestone floor can be heard as the shop owner walks into the room. He's a tall man, salt and pepper beard yielding more hair than his balding head. His face is covered in ashes and dirt, sweat drops running down the sides of his face, carrying the dirt away, leaving streaks of cleaner skin.

"Wha' can I do for yeh?" he asks in a friendly tone. "I'm the silver smith here. If yeh be needin' anathin', feel free to ask." Catching sight of you, he smiles and wipes his forehead on the back of his dirty brown sleeve (once white), then points behind you. "We've got fans over there if ye're feelin' hot."

You smile sheepishly and turn to look up at the wall where the hand held fans are spread wide, coming all sizes and colors, each with a special jewel welded into the handle piece, some with feathers added, others lined in velvet. They reminded you greatly of glittering shells on the beach.

"Would you like one?" Raoul asks you.

"Oh, no, I didn't bring that much money with me..." you say, gripping your small purse a little tighter as your cheeks go red.

"That's not a problem. I had intended to pay anyway," he says, turning back to look at all the fans. "Which would you like, m'lady?"

"You see...this is no ordinary girl to Mr. De Changy," Phantom points out.

"What are you trying to do?" Christine asks angrily.

"Turn your heart away from him. He will only break it. Come to me...become mine..." he enticed, fingertips extending to touch Christine's pale cheek.

Christine said nothing, face turning away from his touch.

His lips became an angry frown. His hand grasped her chin roughly. "I gave you the magic of your voice, I can take it away..." He forced her face to look up at his.

"My heart belongs to someone else and as long as it soars, so will my voice," she said quietly.

"I'll give you one last chance...return to me..." he said, leaning towards her...though the sound of the shop door opening and the bell chiming caused him to stand up and look to where you and Raoul were barely exiting the building.

By the time the two of you looked up at Christine, Phantom had disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Later that evening, you sit in your room. Raoul had requested you eat dinner at the Opera Populaire with Christine and himself. You had okayed the invitation with your ballet instructor.

You had plucked up enough courage to finally be able to ask Madame Giry about receiving a part in the upcoming Opera. To make a better impression, you got back into your red leotard, black silk skirt, flesh colored tights, and red dancing shoes, lacing them up your calves.

Walking to the closet, you open it to fish out your old grey cloak, then turn to look at the mirror placed on the inside of the door when you notice the fan Raoul had bought for you. You had hung it by its handle on the hook for the mirror. It hung upside down, spread out over the top of the mirror, so you couldn't see your face, but that was okay.

After you tied cloak securely around your neck, you unhooked the fan and ran your fingers along the green ivy design set into the black material. You grinned a little. Raoul sure was sweet to you.

Looking up into the mirror, you gasp and nearly fall backward as the Phantom's mask reflects dimly in the glass. Blinking, you step forward, the mask disappearing.

* * *

The sky is cloudy, barring out any moonlight. Barely able to see a few feet ahead of you, you make your way swiftly through the foggy streets, the mist tumbling after your cloak as it sweeps the ground. The echo of your hasty footsteps is muffled by the thick air.

Glancing behind you often, nothing is following you, though you're still spooked by the experience in front of the mirror.

"Ah, there you are," Raoul says happily as you stumble into the entrance of the Opera house. You can see Christine watching from the Dining Hall's doorway. It looked as though Raoul had been pacing around. Why would he have been?

"I'm sorry I'm late. I got lost," you say uneasily.

"I knew I should have come to pick you up. How stupid of me," Raoul says with a small sigh, shaking his head. "Here, let me take your cloak."

"Oh, no, no it's alright," you say, removing it yourself. "I'll put it away myself," you say, turning in a slow circle, looking for a coat hanger of some sort.

"You can place it in my dressing room if you'd like, Katherine," Christine suggests with a small smile.

"Can I? I'll be back in a moment! Go ahead and go on in, I won't keep you waiting any longer," you say, hearing everyone already eating, the clank of utensils and plates and cups hitting each other and the table in the next room.

Once inside Christine's dressing room, you fold your cloak and set it on the arm of the chair in the corner, then walk over to the mirror to double check yourself and make sure you're still presentable. Though...a letter catches your eye. It's stamp is a large wax skull and lying above the note lies a blood red rose, a long black ribbon tied around the stem.

"O. G.?" you murmur, reading the signature on the other side of the letter. Curiosity gets the best of you after you realize it's from the Opera Ghost. Opening it slowly, you look around the room as though someone may be looking.

Messy red ink fills the page, splotched on some words.

"My love,

Let us meet under the moon on the roof at the stroke of midnight. I'll be waiting there to sing you the music of the night. To sweep you off your feet so that you can forget all worldly cares and only remember the magic of the stars... be there my angel, and let our souls take flight!"

Unfortunately you are unable to finish reading the note before someone knocks on the door and you absentmindedly hide the opened letter in a drawer of the vanity table. "I'm coming!" you call to whoever it is and hurry out of the room.

...Continued the P.S. after O.G.'s signature reads, "...No tricks, no games, no decoys, just your beauty and yours alone."

* * *

Well there's chapter 4! Naturally you're gonna go up there, assuming Christine would've asked you eventually after reading it. Unfortunately, you're still clueless that he knows Christine was playing a game. 


End file.
